


T-Shots And Bake Off

by great_turkey_calamity



Series: Hey Look Trans Rep [1]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex answers them honestly, Alex comforts him, David is mentioned like twice and I love him, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Henry cries just a little bit bc w o w, Henry helps him with his shot, Henry starts asking questions about being trans, Then they kiki it up, alex is trans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/great_turkey_calamity/pseuds/great_turkey_calamity
Summary: After helping Alex with his testosterone injections, Henry has a few questions.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Hey Look Trans Rep [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747501
Comments: 23
Kudos: 150





	T-Shots And Bake Off

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s some more trans Alex bc this fandom 100% needs it.

“How come I’ve been giving you all of your shots?” Henry questions, drying off his hands before going to check the expiration date on the vial, just to be sure that they aren’t dealing with anything that shouldn’t be used. “You’re nearly twenty-three, shouldn’t you be doing this on your own?” He teases, getting out the alcohol swabs and a disposable syringe.  
  


“You _know_ that I hate needles.” Alex replies squeamishly, his stomach churning as he watches his partner open the packaging to said infernal item. “I only do the shots myself if I absolutely have to.”

“Who used to do them for you, then?” He removes the cap from the vial, cleaning the rubber stopper with one of the alcohol swabs. “Don’t tell me that you’ve been running to _Ellen_ every three weeks, now.”

“Oh _God_ , no. Mom hasn’t helped me with my injections since I was, like, sixteen. June and Nora used to help me out. If they weren’t around, I’d do it on my own. Took me an hour every time, sure, but I got it done.”

“Are there other ways that you can get testosterone? I hate seeing you get so anxious over this.” He pulls the needle cover off of the medical tool, and draws in some air. “Surely this isn’t your _only_ option.” He continues, inserting the needle straight down through the rubber stopper and into the bottle.

“Well, two other options are gel and pellets. The gel’s an everyday thing that you apply to your underarms and upper arms. I used it for a while, but it really started irritating my skin, so I had to stop.” Alex explains, watching him as he pushes down on the plunger, tipping the bottle upside down and pulling it up again, faint yellow liquid entering the syringe. “And pellets are about the size of a grain of rice— they're implanted into skin of the hips and ass. It’s a whole medical procedure, and it can leave some minor scarring. It just seems a lot more practical to do the injections, even if I don’t like them very much.” He finishes softly, his heartbeat accelerating the longer he stares.

“I agree with that— they seem like the best option for you, love.” Henry replies, sterilizing the skin of his thigh with the other swab, gently pinching an inch-wide section of tissue between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m about to do it, look away or close your eyes.” He warns, trying not to laugh when Alexander places his hands over his eyes. He inserts the needle, lifting his hand away from where he’s holding the skin. He slowly pushes down on the plunger, watching as the liquid gradually vanishes. 

He sighs shakily at the pressure and burning sensation in his leg. “Are we almost done?” He asks, trying not to get too overwhelmed.

The older man pulls back and removes the needle from the skin, disposing of it by placing it inside a sharps container. “All done. Let me get you a plaster.” He responds, rifling through their medicine cabinet for the box of bandaids. He removes the paper from the adhesive strip, placing it over the injection site. “There we go; you can open your eyes now.”

He does just that, letting out an exhale of relief. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that, really.”

“You would still be psyching yourself up to put the needle in, you said so yourself. Hop down from that countertop, you can’t sit there all day.” Hen instructs, holding his hands out in order to help him down onto the tile floor. “Since I’ve already got you occupied, you should come to the sitting room and take a break. You’ve been studying all day long— I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, alright. Only because you’ve missed me, though. I don’t really _need_ one or anything.”

“Of _course_ , lovely.” He replies with a quiet chuckles, nudging him out of the master bathroom and towards their end destination. 

  
Alexander feels something off about Henry. Something subtle; just enough to grab ahold of his attention. Every time he looks away from the television screen— he catches him staring, only to look away when their eyes lock.   
  


“What’s up?” He asks eventually, turning the volume down before ultimately deciding to pause _Bake Off_ altogether.

“Nothing, nothing.”  
  


He watches him stroke over David’s coat, scratching behind his ears and patting his back. It’s very obvious to Alex that it isn’t just _‘nothing’_. His mind seems preoccupied; he wants to know what’s causing him to act so unusual. “Talk to me.”

“I just don’t want anything to come off as discourteous.” He explains, and the younger man feels like he has an inkling as to what this is all about.   
  


He gives him a gentle smile, reaching out and grabbing his unoccupied hand, warm and soft. “Just ask whatever questions you have, and I’ll try my best to answer them. Don’t worry about being disrespectful, this is about learning and getting educated on an unfamiliar topic.” He watches him hesitate, and squeezes his hand in reassurance. “Go ahead.”

“How,” Hen starts, clearing his throat and starting up again. “How did you figure out that you’re trans?”

He can’t help it when he begins to laugh. “Oh, honey.” He sighs. “Is _that_ what’s got you all wound up?”

“Well, I’m not very knowledgeable,” Is the response, pale skin turning a bright, vivid pink shade. “I don’t want to say something rude and not know that I did so.”

“I’d let you know if you did, I promise.” He swears up and down before taking a minute to gather his thoughts into a cohesive explanation. “As to answer your question, it wasn’t really something that I ‘figured out’. Never really had any sort of magical ‘ _aha_ ’ moment, you know?” He starts, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “Basically, I’ve always been like this. According to my parents and June, at least. Never acted like I was supposed to; I would throw a fit if I was told to do certain things or forced to dress certain ways. The older I got, the worse my attitude became. My parents noticed around the time I was twelve, so they booked an appointment with a child psychologist. That psychologist then recommended us to my first gender therapist. I was asked a couple of questions, and it was pretty clear that I wasn’t cis.” He chuckles at the memory, rubbing his face. “So, I got put on blockers, and as soon as I turned sixteen, I got put on T.”

“Sounds like you were pretty lucky.” His lover notes.

“Oh, I was definitely lucky. A lot of kids, especially in the south, have a ridiculous amount of trouble getting on hormones. I’m also lucky that my family is so supportive and accepting, if they weren’t, I might still be pre-everything. I don’t even wanna think about that.” He finishes, cringing at the idea. 

“Well, I’m certainly glad that you’ve had it easy.” Henry replies, completely unable to fathom how miserable the younger man would be if that was the case. 

“It hasn’t been easy by any means, but I appreciate the sentiment.” He corrects, shifting a bit and messing with the remote so that the television doesn’t turn off on its own. “Shit’s been really _rough_ , actually.” He clarifies. “Aside from dysphoria, I suffer from medical conditions that’ve had me off and on my hormones for years. I used to over-bind, and my ribs are so far beyond fucked up, it’s not even funny. Dad had a lot of trouble in the beginning trying to understand what being trans even _means_. I had years and years of built up internalized transphobia, which transformed into toxic masculinity that was almost impossible to shake.“ He finishes, inhaling and exhaling deeply. “However, I can acknowledge my privilege, and I count my blessings each and every day. I’ve _definitely_ had it easier than most, and I can say that with one-hundred percent certainty.” He admits.  
  


He notices that his lover has gone quiet, and squeezes his hand again. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing the back of it.

“Do you find yourself to be in pain often? I’m surprised that it’s taken me so long to ask; I just need to know after hearing about all of that.”

He wants to tell the truth, that there’s always some part of him that’s hurting, whether it be mental, emotional, or physical. His chest, his head, his abdomen. Everything buzzing and thumping, pounding and shrieking in unholy, agonizing unison. Some days, he wishes that he just doesn’t exist, but he knows that it would break Henry if he told him even a fraction of this information, so he settles for a different response to this question.

“To be honest,” He starts. “The answer is yes, but I’m coping with it in the most healthy and safe ways I can.” He pauses briefly, mostly thinking on his feet. “Having you around helps. A lot. You make me feel like the strongest, most masculine man in the world. Hell, sometimes I even feel _attractive_.” He jokes. “My point is, on my bad days, you’re this— this radiant, beautiful ray of sunshine that manages to make me feel better, and I just can’t thank you enough.”

“Baby,” Henry replies, and he looks up from their intertwined hands, surprised to see his eyes watering. “I love you, and it makes me so happy to know that I help you forget your pain, even if just for a little while.” His voice fades off a bit at the end, and his tears threaten to spill over.

“Hey, don’t go crying on me.” Alex coos, reaching up to caress his face. “It’s nothing to cry over, it really isn’t.” He assures, heart doing something funny when his partner rushes to wipe at his eyes.

“I can’t help it— I’m sorry.” The older man laughs, tears still streaming down his face.

“Come here, come here.” He insists in a calming tone, holding Henry as he cries, shushing him and rubbing his back. “You’re too sweet. How did I ever get so lucky?”

“You threw me into my brother’s wedding cake.” He gets out between sniffles, lifting his head up and cupping Alex’s face with one hand. “You know how the story continues from there, I believe.”

“I do.” Alexander replies with a soft laugh, kissing him right on the mouth. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you too.”

“Good— are we done crying, now?” He questions, smiling when he receives a nod in response. “Wanna finish this episode of _Bake Off_?”

“Yes, please.” Henry replies, readjusting and getting comfortable against him, whilst making sure he doesn’t disturb David while he sleeps soundly in his lap. 

Alex presses play, and turns up the volume, allowing their program to play once more, glad that the two of them were able to have this conversation. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @bi-disaster-fsotus


End file.
